back home after 14 months, but now what?
After 14 months of hopping from country to country, I finally dragged my suitcase back through my own front door. I’ve seen the sun rise over the temples in Cambodia, eaten street food in Istanbul that made my mouth water, and gotten lost in more markets than I can count. I even learned how to order coffee in three different languages—though, let’s be honest, it never tasted quite like the cup I get at my local diner.
Now, I’m back in my own living room, staring at the same old wallpaper, and suddenly everything feels a little too familiar. The grocery store aisles are exactly where I left them, and my neighbors still wave from their porch, but it’s like I’m seeing it all with new eyes. I keep catching myself reaching for my passport, half-expecting to need it just to go out for milk.
Here’s the thing: after all those adventures, I thought coming home would feel comforting, but instead, I’m a bit restless. Part of me misses the thrill of not knowing what’s around the next corner, and part of me is just happy to sleep in my own bed again. Has anyone else come back from a long trip and felt this weird mix of relief and letdown? I’m torn between wanting to relive the excitement and just enjoying the peace and quiet. And don’t get me started on how bland my cooking tastes now compared to what I had abroad!
#travelstories #backhome #wanderlust #Travel
